The Doctor Is In
by destyshell
Summary: Dr. William "Spike" Giles has one last patient waiting in exam room B. Who might be waiting behind the door? Read and find out! Warnings: Very Mature, Freaky/Kinky, Taboo
1. The Patient in Exam Room B

**The Doctor is In**

**Dr. William "Spike" Giles has one last patient waiting in exam room B. Who might be waiting behind the door? Read and find out!**

**Warnings: Very Mature, Freaky/Kinky, Taboo**

**No Flames—this is not my day job, just for fun.**

**Joss owns all. No copyright infringement intended.**

**The Patient in Exam Room B**

"Dr. Giles, You have one more patient in exam room B," Harmony informed, frantically slipping on her coat and grabbing her purse.

"What the hell, Harm? You know I can't complete the exam without a nurse present," the platinum blonde gynecologist reminded the ditzy nurse.

"Look—it's five o'clock—not my problem. I told you my son's daycare calls social services if I'm late."

Dr. William "Spike" Giles glanced toward the closed exam room door and its empty acrylic file holder.

"Where's the chart?" he tried to question calmly.

"Didn't have time. She said it was an emergency, and you'd understand. Gotta go, Doc. See you tomorrow," Nurse Kendall chirped as she skittered out the door before her boss demand that she stay.

The doctor shook his head at the fact that he was saddled with Harmony Kendall as lead nurse. He had been grateful to her father, head neurologist, Patrick Kendall, for all he had done for Spike's late wife Joyce, but no one could have foreseen the aneurysm that followed the successful brain tumor removal. When Dr. Kendall mentioned his daughter had recently completed her nursing degree with a specialty in OB/GYN, Spike had jumped at the chance, hoping that she was as bright and capable as her father.

She wasn't.

Spike sighed, knowing he could complete a patient history in half the time it took Harmony. He was waiting for the vapid RN to fuck up badly enough to justify firing her. He mused on the possible gaffs that could lead to her dismissal as he perfunctorily knocked on the door and turned the knob. Flipping the chart to the blank page inside and sliding the silver pen from his jacket pocket, Spike entered the small exam room.

"I'm Dr. Giles. What can I help you with—,"

Spike looked up for the first time since he opened the door…

"Buffy!" he gasped, the file clattering to the floor as he saw the tiny blonde, clothed only in the thin paper gown open down the front, not bothering with the pointless sheet to cover her lap.

Buffy gave the doctor a sheepish, watery smile.

"Hi, Daddy," she said.

Xxx

**Didn't want to spoil the surprise—Buffy is Spike's stepdaughter from his marriage to Joyce. Joyce passed away several years before. If this is too squicky for you, then stop now. If not, the next chapter will be up soon. **


	2. Special Treatment

**The Doctor is In**

**Dr. William "Spike" Giles has one last patient waiting in exam room B. Who might be waiting behind the door? Read and find out!**

**Warnings: Very Mature, Freaky/Kinky, Taboo**

**No Flames—this is not my day job, just for fun.**

**Joss owns all. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Buffy is Spike's stepdaughter from his marriage to Joyce. Joyce passed away several years before. If this is too squicky for you, then stop now. If not, the next chapter will be up soon. **

Ch 2

"Bloody hell, Buffy. What are you doing here?"

"I figured if I came to your office, you'd have to see me."

Spike glanced down the hallway for any straggling personnel, and spoke in low tones even though he'd seen no one, "Buffy, I could lose my license—all the nurses have gone home."

"Well, I'm not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"Cheeky bint," Spike sighed, resignedly closing the door behind him. "I thought you were seeing Dr. Travers?"

"Ugh, he's nearly a hundred and he smells like moth balls. And anyway, he only talks to me for about ten seconds and sends his slutty P.A., Faith, in to stick an extra-long Q-tip up my twat, and then he tells me to come back when I'm sexually active.

Spike quirked an eyebrow, "That's not why you're here is it?"

"God, no, Dad. The guys at Sunnydale High are idiots. Half of them were suspended last week for pouring gasoline on the football field and burning dirty words into the grass."

"Brilliant," her dad said dryly.

Though, technically, Buffy was Spike's stepdaughter, she had never really known Hank after he split from Joyce, leaving Spike to be the only father-figure the petite blonde had ever known. They were the only family each other had left after Joyce's sudden death, her age and health concerns precluding any further additions to the family during her marriage to Dr. William Giles.

Joyce and Spike had met in the emergency room when he was only a resident, serving his time on trauma rotation. She was his patient only briefly, normally seeing the now-elderly Dr. Travers. Spike and Joyce became quick friends, then lovers and finally husband and wife. Buffy was ten when her mother passed and had been in the care of her step-father ever since.

"When did you see Travers last, sweetheart?" Spike asked his step-daughter.

"Let's see…middle of sophomore year…I'm a senior now, so…two years? My periods stayed regular after that, and Faith had given me a cardboard box full of sample pills…and some condoms, just to be safe," Buffy added, just to goad her dad.

"That negligent bastard- I have half a mind to report him," Spike muttered, then looked at Buffy, reconsidering, seeing as how he'd come by this piece of information. "Baby, the room's not set up for an internal exam," he half-pleaded.

"Can't you just do it the old-fashioned way? Minus the pinchy speculum?" Buffy coaxed.

Spike sighed, knowing Buffy's stubborn streak would get the better of him. He went to the counter to pull a pair of exam gloves from the box.

"Do you have to use the gloves? They smell like the hospital," Buffy groused, hating anything that reminded her of the long days and nights they spent in Sunnydale Memorial.

"I guess not, kitten," Spike conceded softly. "Scoot down here and let me get this sample before we move on."

"K," Buffy breathed out nervously, bringing her bottom to the edge of the exam table.

"Spread your legs for me just a bit further, pet…yeah, that's it," Spike tried to hide his nervousness as he spoke soothingly, Buffy's golden thighs parting to reveal bare, wet nether lips, opened to reveal all the slick, pink swollen flesh normally hidden from view. Buffy's heady scent made Spike impossibly hard though he tried to fight against the fantasy suddenly occupying his brain.

"I like to keep it shaved because of cheerleading and gymnastics," Buffy explained, realizing that her step-father might be assuming the diligent grooming of her bikini area might be for some boy.

"I figured as much when I had to start picking girly hair out of my razor," Spike smirked.

Buffy scrunched her nose in embarrassment as she looked down the length of the table.

"Sorry, Daddy."

Trying to tease his way out of an uncomfortable situation, Spike joked, "S'aright." He wheeled around to pluck the cotton-topped stick from a glass container. "Now for the long Q-tip up your twat, as you so delicately put it," smiling at Buffy's light chuckle. Spike swabbed her cervix and popped the sample into its proper container, wanting to get the necessary tests out of the way first.

Spike rolled his chair from his position between Buffy's thighs, moving to stand at her shoulder.

"Put this hand behind your head," he helped Buffy slide her arm out of the way. "That's it, pet. Now I'm going to perform your breast exam. You're so young, I don't expect to find anything, but I don't want to take any chances."

"K, Daddy," came the soft acquiescence.

Spike pulled back one side of the flimsy gown, expertly drawing firm but gentle circles on Buffy's breast. He grinned a little to himself as he felt Buffy's heart rate increase under his fingers and her breath come in nervous shudders. He gave the same attention to the right side, her held breath causing her breast to fill his hand with fullness.

"Now, luv, I need to squeeze the nipples a bit."

Buffy nodded silently but a look of petrified shame shone from her eyes.

At the first gentle pinch, Buffy's nipple and surrounding aureole sprang instantly to a hard, tight bud—the tips so hard it seemed they could cut glass. A small moan escaped his daughter's lips as her hips raised fruitlessly, seeking purchase.

"Are your nipples always so responsive?" Spike's voice was thick as his fingers gauged the taut peak.

"I don't know…no one's ever touched me there before," Buffy admitted shyly.

"Oh…," Spike breathed out, trying to rein in his reaction before proceeding further, "Just one more," Spike bit the bullet and pinched the other side, eliciting a panting gasp from Buffy's mouth as the scent in the room grew even stronger.

"Sorry, pet," he apologized, afraid her nipples had been too sensitive for the exam. Spike cupped his palm over the taut mound, hoping the warmth from his hand would help soften the turgid peak.

"It's fine…I'm ok," she seemed to steel herself, giving her step-father a brave smile.

"I'm going to do the internal exam now. If you are uncomfortable or want me to stop, just say so," Spike looked at Buffy with a sympathetic smile.

She smiled and nodded as a signal for him to proceed.

Spike slid his palms down to Buffy's taut abdomen, checking for any abnormalities as he went. When the heel of his hand hit her pubic bone, Buffy's tummy fluttered as she sucked in a breath. He couldn't resist a little tickle to her belly button to try and get the seventeen-year-old to relax.

With a quick smile, Spike moved between her propped legs. "Alright, luv, since Nurse Kendall didn't see fit to supply the room with any of the basic necessities, it may take me a bit to loosen things up down here.

"I know, Daddy," Buffy smiled softly, looking down the length of the table as Spike stood between her parted knees.

Spike took a deep, resigned breath, fairly certain his future was filled with some good, old-fashioned fire and brimstone.

Buffy tried unsuccessfully to stifle a moan as Spike's bare left index-finger sank into her tight channel. She was so hot and so wet and so snug that Spike had to blow out a deep breath to try and control the instinct he was trying to suppress. He pumped his finger a few times to elicit the slippery essence that was needed. Buffy's breath grew raspy at the invasion.

Spike realized all he was risking, understood too well the line he was crossing, but he also knew he couldn't allow Buffy to endure the same frustration that plagued her mother for years.

"I'm just going to spread this around a bit to make things a little more comfortable. If we keep things nice and slick, the exam will be a more pleasant experience for you.

Buffy nodded, "That shouldn't be too difficult—I have to change panties four or five times a day," she conceded wryly, noting how often her underwear would become saturated with her body's juices.

"I know…I do the laundry, remember," her step-father tried to suppress the hint of a smirk, thinking of the scent of soaked panties that would assault his senses as he sorted through the bathroom hamper.

Gently, Spike spread the richly-scented juice around Buffy's deeply pink nether-lips, the engorged flesh brutally swollen. His thumb slipped down to her sensitive perineum and then past that patch of flesh to the tight bud beneath, smiling a little to himself at the "Eep!" that passed her lips as he lightly circled the forbidden passage. His fingertips rose to the apex of his step-daughter's thighs. He stroked at the impossibly hard pearl, watching to gauge her reaction-wide, surprised eyes and an open mouth, releasing a hungry groan.

"It doesn't feel the same when I try to do that," Buffy gasped, confessing her failure at trying to satisfy her body's needs alone. Her hazel eyes sought understanding from his deep blue ones.

"Your mom used to say it was like trying to tickle herself," he explained with a sympathetic smile and a little sentimental chuckle. Buffy breathed out a little sobbing sigh, relieved that Spike seemed to understand.

"I need to check inside, ok?"

Buffy nodded hopefully.

"There will be some pressure, but I want you to let me know if you feel any pain."

"I will," Buffy assured, her voice laced with gravel.

Spike's finger slid back inside, trying to slacken the strangle hold that surrounded his digit.

"Try to relax, baby," Spike coaxed.

Buffy could only close her eyes and moan as she pushed her hips against his hand.

Spike added another finger to her snug sheath, trying to stretch her just a little further. He massaged the slick, pillowed walls, his fingers sinking deeper with each stroke. Spike thrust his hips against the padded end of the exam table, trying to relieve some of the strain against his tented trousers.

He pressed low on her belly with his other hand still buried deep, pulling a deep groan from Buffy as she bucked against his searching fingers. The flimsy gown had since slipped away, leaving Buffy bare to her step-father's gaze as she tried to force his fingers even deeper.

"Buffy?" Spike questioned in concern.

"Keep going," she panted, her voice humming with need.

Spike slipped his right index finger in to join his left as he gathered more of Buffy's natural lubrication onto his fingers.

"Kitten, I'm going to slip a finger in your bottom to do the anal exam. It might hurt a little at first, but then I promise it'll feel better."

Incapable of coherent speech, Buffy could only nod.

Spike slipped his right hand down below, wiggling the tip of his finger to breech the tight sphincter. Buffy whimpered a little at first, but when she bore down again on the fingers that still pumped in her vagina, her tight rosebud opened further to allow her step-father's finger unimpeded entry.

"Oh, God," Buffy groaned, writhing against the digital assault. Spike made a quick reconnaissance for any abnormalities, and satisfied that there were no medical concerns other than what he already suspected, he tried once more to give Buffy a chance to end the visit before it went too far.

"Well, everything looks good, sweetheart. We'll just get you cleaned up…"

"No, Daddy! Please…I'm so close…. Don't stop…I need…." She cried desperately.

"I know what you need, kitten. I won't stop, baby—I promise…," Transfixed, Spike slid his retreating fingers back into the snug depths of Buffy's body.

Disregarding all the inhibitions and fears that had previously held him in check…held him in check when Buffy's good-night kisses began to linger just a little too long…held him in check when she would sneak into his bed after a bad dream, only wearing a thin nightshirt…held him in check when she would crawl into his lap wearing her short skirts, batting her eyelashes playfully in order to get her way, all the while tickling the curls at the back of his head; though he had resisted Buffy's temptations for so long, finally, Spike gave in-Buffy had pushed her step-father to the breaking point.

Spike crooked his finger to stroke at the spongy flesh deep inside, liquid heat soaking his hand while he teased and tickled. His thumb rose to stroke her clit, adding another sensation to stoke the fire that was blooming in Buffy's belly.

This barrage of unfamiliar sensations elicited another deep groan from Buffy's throat.

"Don't stop, please…," Buffy cried, bucking hard against Spike's hands.

"Just close your eyes and let go, kitten," Spike coaxed in a ragged breath, hands pumping in a syncopated rhythm as he bent forward to capture Buffy's taut dusky nipple between his lips, punishing the padded vinyl table with his aching cock.

In the ensuing darkness, Buffy felt the urgent pull of Spike's lips against her breast, seemingly now tethered to her aching clit, a storm of sensation beginning to brew in her aching core.

"Daddy?" she panted out, questioning, wondering at the intensity of the building urgency.

"Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy."

Spike then captured Buffy's untended breast, teeth nipping at the tender flesh, his fingers suddenly bound by the pulsing muscles that encased them.

"Oh…oh…I'm coming…I'm coming…," she shouted incredulously, her body heading toward an unknown apex, the likes of which Buffy had always desired but had never reached.

The petite blonde was caught in a maelstrom of release, screaming curses and praises, pouring a flood of slick fluid onto Spike's hands, and arching her back with a tension so great, it was usually only achieved through electrical shock.

"That's it, kitten…that's it…," Spike coaxed, slipping his finger from her bottom as he slowly eased his ministrations to her slickened channel. Only then did he realize that his wool trousers were sticky and wet with his own spendings.

Tears of release welled at the corners of Buffy's eyes, causing Spike to remove his soaked hands and scoop up Buffy from the exam table, reaching for his black duster to cover her before he sat and held her in his lap.

He stroked at Buffy's golden locks as she buried her face in his chest, still reeling from the aftershocks of her climax. Spike steeled himself as he felt her body stiffen and curl up, wide hazel eyes frozen onto his as realization finally dawned on Buffy.

"Oh my God, Daddy—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…what I made you do. What's wrong with me?" she began to cry in earnest, shame and guilt washing over her in waves.

Had Spike not known what to expect, he might have been experiencing those same emotions tenfold. Knowledge and understanding were his salvation in that moment.

"Nothing…nothing is wrong with you, my sweet girl," Spike held her close, stroking her hip and thigh as he peppered her forehead with kisses. You are beautiful…and brilliant…and strong…and sexy," he smiled.

"So you're not mad…or disgusted…or…"

"Course not, pet. Nothing wrong with knowing what you need, is there?" Spike soothed as he smiled.

"I guess not," Buffy conceded, still a little shaken and confused. "But how did you know…?"

"We'll talk about it more when we get home," Spike promised with a reassuring kiss to the tip of her nose. "For now, let's get you dressed," Spike reached for the tidy stack of folded clothing on the counter.

"Hmmm, wet knickers, wouldn't be very comfy to put on again, I'd guess," Spike waggled his eyebrows as he gave the undies a deep sniff, causing Buffy to giggle at the sight. "I'll just stow these in my pocket then, pet," the good doctor teased as he slipped the scrap of lace into the pocket of his white jacket.

"So you just slip back into your skirt and blouse…I'll go change into my spare pair of trousers I keep in my office since _somebody_ made me come in my pants like a schoolboy," he mockingly accused, earning a delighted giggle from the blonde wrapped up in his lap.

Before Spike set her feet on the floor, Buffy captured his lips in a searing kiss.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered softly. Though she was still reeling from the sudden changes in their relationship, Spike was still the man who had loved and cared for her all these years, and she was unwilling to completely cease addressing him as such. "I love you."

"I love you, too, kitten," Spike blue eyes misted with emotion. "Never be ashamed of asking for what you want."

Buffy nodded in silent acknowledgement, excitement building in her body again at this new facet of her relationship with Spike.

"There is not a damn thing wrong with you," Spike definitively assured, gently sliding a stray golden lock behind her ear. "You're still my sweet girl…but you're also a hell of a woman, Buffy Anne Summers—and don't you ever forget it…."


	3. Like Mother, Like Daughter

**The Doctor is In**

**Dr. William "Spike" Giles has one last patient waiting in exam room B. Who might be waiting behind the door? Read and find out!**

**Warnings: Very Mature, Freaky/Kinky, Taboo**

**No Flames—this is not my day job, just for fun.**

**Joss owns all. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Buffy is Spike's stepdaughter from his marriage to Joyce. Joyce passed away several years before. If this is too squicky for you, then stop now. Now Complete**

**Like Mother, Like Daughter**

Buffy and Spike entered their home at 1630 Revello Drive, Spike shutting and locking the door behind them. Hand and hand they entered the living room, Buffy playfully shifting her weight to swing Spike onto the corner seat of the couch. Buffy took up residence on his lap, not bothering to go put on a clean pair of panties.

Spike didn't seem to mind.

She toyed with the curls at the back of his hair for a moment, in seeming contemplation before broaching the subject.

"Ok, make with the splainy."

Buffy had never been a patient child.

"Pushy, bint," Spike cocked his eyebrow. Taking a deep breath, Spike explained how he met Buffy's mother.

"Well, you know that your mum and I met in the emergency room, but we never told you exactly why she was there. She came in with some unexpected vaginal bleeding. She had apparently become a little over-zealous with her favorite vibrator, Mr. Pointy," Spike smiled at the memory.

"Ewww…," Buffy cringed.

"Don't be so judgy, pet," Spike warned playfully. "Your mother had a very high sex-drive, but she also had great difficulty in achieving orgasm. It was very frustrating for her, I can assure you."

Buffy nodded in understanding.

"I checked everything out, and she just had some minor abrasions. I treated and released her, finishing up my shift for the day. You were at pre-school till three, so your mom asked me out for coffee. We talked for a while…got to know each other. It turned out, in fact, that she had met my dad at a faculty mixer when she was in graduate school at Sunnydale…something about hallucinogenic chocolate and the hood of a police car…," Spike shook his head, still unsure of the exact details.

"Didn't that freak you out?" Buffy curled up her nose, even though it was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black.

"Nah, inherited my good looks and sexual prowess from somewhere, didn't I?" Spike grinned as he waggled his eyebrows.

Buffy chuckled at Spike's complete lack of humility.

"Anyway, she said that her marriage to Hank had not been particularly fulfilling. He wasn't a very attentive lover, nor did he seem all that concerned with whether or not she was satisfied. Masturbation wasn't exactly effective for her either. She really needed that anticipation, that suspense of where she was going to be touched, how she was going to be touched…."

"I get that," Buffy nodded in understanding, thinking about the frustrating, perpetual ache that drove her to her father's office today.

"I know, pet," Spike stroked Buffy's golden locks.

"I had done a great deal of research on women's sexual…_challenges_," Spike corrected, not wanting Buffy to label herself as dysfunctional. "That gave us a lot to talk about, of course, and then we started seeing each other more frequently, and you know the rest."

"When did you start thinking that I might be like her?"

"Well, I did always tease her about your predilection for rocking horses, see saws, and bicycles," Spike tickled her thighs as he chuckled.

"You're awful," Buffy swatted at Spike's chest.

"What can I say, luv, I've always been bad," Spike smiled, his expression then turning pensive.

"There have been more signals, recently—wigglin' around when you sat on my lap, woke up the other day with you wrapped all around me, your nightshirt ridin' up pretty high, and I swore when you kissed me goodnight yesterday, you slipped me a little tongue," Spike grinned. Buffy smiled at being caught out, ducking her head a little in feigned embarrassment.

Spike sighed, recalling his previous fears, "I really thought I'd spend your teenage years running idiot boys out of your bedroom."

"I told you, all the boys in Sunnydale are the spawn of Satan," Buffy replied in all seriousness. "I don't want to go through a string of fumbling boys. I don't want to spend my life frustrated like mom was."

"I don't want that for you either, baby."

"So what do we do?" Buffy questioned softly. She really hoped today had not just been a one-off, no pun intended. She hoped that Spike could come to see her as a woman, a partner, although part of her still liked Spike's comfort and protection, wanted the hot chocolate with little marshmallows after a tough day, enjoyed climbing onto his lap and playing with the curls at the back of his head….

Although, considering that Spike's hand was currently under her skirt, and his thumb was softly stroking at the furrow of her nether lips, Buffy was of a mind that sitting on Daddy's lap without panties had its own benefits as well….

"Well, your birthday is in a couple of weeks; you graduate in June… then we're free to do whatever we choose. I was offered a position in San Francisco, but I was going to turn it down to stay here with you."

"San Francisco?" Buffy's eyes lit up. "All that art…music…culture. Berkeley's not too far. That would be great," Buffy hinted as she smiled.

"You won't miss Sunnydale?"

"Willow left early for MIT, Xander's got Anya who is obsessed with orgasms. At least now I know what all the fuss is about," Buffy grinned knowingly. "So…I think San Francisco sounds like a fantastic idea. Now that our travelling plans are in order, what about…," Buffy bit her lips coquettishly, hiking up her skirt to remind Spike of the bare lips beneath.

"Ah, yes, pet, hungry little thing aren't you?" Spike pressed his thumb a little harder, breeching the resistance of those puffy lips to tease the hard pearl beneath. "Well, what can I say, I'm a might peckish myself," Spike grinned as he scooped Buffy up, carrying her up the stairs to his bedroom.

Playfully tossing her on the rumpled sheets, Buffy smiled as Spike seamlessly slipped from father to lover.

"Let's see that little trick again, kitten," he looked on ravenously.

With a wicked smile Buffy teased the white skirt slowly up her golden thighs till the barest hint of her tender nether-lips started peeking from beneath. The cotton ruffles continued their travels upward till her smooth bare mound came into view.

"A little wider, luv."

Buffy parted her thighs for the second time that day, no longer with the same trepidation that she had earlier experienced.

Just as Spike expected, her deep pink lips parted to reveal the slick essence that ran generously from her body.

"You look absolutely delicious, kitten," Spike stalked up from the foot of the bed on his hands and knees, "And I just bet you've got some cream for me."

Buffy cried out as Spike's tongue split her swollen lips, diving deep against her needy pearl, his now familiar fingers plunging once again into her channel.

He sucked hard against Buffy's clit, saving teasing and game-playing for later. He nipped at her crescents of pink flesh, causing Buffy to buck against his mouth, eager for more. Spike's tongue then invaded her liquid channel, his fingers moving to the bundle of nerves at her apex.

"So sweet," Spike declared. His tongue, although having refrained from this activity for so many years, seemed to remember its purpose, curling and lapping at her hot core, then moving back up to Buffy's rigid clit as his fingers once again stroked at that sensitive, internal flesh.

"Oh, Daddy, that's so good," Buffy moaned, unthinking. Guilt niggled at the back of Spike's mind, giving him pause.

Nervously, Buffy questioned as she panted, "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

Spike looked up from between her thighs, a smirk at the corners of his shiny, wet lips, "Not as much as it should," he confessed, smiling, before diving between her thighs once again.

Spike's tongue drew spiraling circles on the way to her tight rosebud, where he allowed his tongue to tickle and tease before nipping relentlessly at her inner thighs.

Buffy's fingers raked through his blonde curls, pulling him back toward her needy center. His fingers plunged into her depths over and again, knuckles twisting inside while he suckled on her insistent clit.

Buffy cried out, her walls contracting against her step-father's hand. His fingers continued their attentions while his eager tongue lapped at Buffy's spendings, drinking in all the sweet cream that he had asked for.

Buffy's nails clawed at Spike's shoulders, drawing him up to where she lay. "Need you…need you inside me," she panted.

"Are you sure certain?" Spike searched her eyes in the dark, wanting to make sure Buffy was ready.

Ripping off her blouse and tugging her bra awkwardly over her head, she bared her breasts for her step-father once again.

"Yes."

Spike scrambled out of his shirt and already-loosened tie, fumbling for his trouser buttons with one hand.

"I can help with that," Buffy smiled unhooking the metal fastenings and pulling down the zipper.

"Want you naked, too," Spike grinned as he pulled off the bunched up skirt wadded around Buffy's waist.

Spike shucked his trousers off, wedging Buffy's thigh between his own. Her small hand nervously tested the sensitive column of flesh, smiling as it jumped in her hand.

"I did that?" she questioned, a little fascinated at her new-found power.

"Yes, you did, pet, and frankly, it's not the first time," Spike smiled.

She pumped the pale length, making it longer and harder than it had been in many years.

"You ready, pet?" Spike questioned as he moved between her heated thighs.

Buffy bit her lip and nodded as she felt Spike's rock-hard cock nudging at her entrance.

"This is going to hurt for a bit, and then it'll feel really good."

"Ok…"

Spike slid in slowly, tasting the salty skin of Buffy's breasts while she adjusted to his size. Spike paused as he reached her barrier.

"Don't stop," she whispered, yet again.

"Ok," Spike breathed out, hating himself just a little in that moment as he thrust forward, splitting the thin membrane and completely filling Buffy's snug channel with his hungry cock.

"Daddy!" she cried out as he seated himself fully in her tight depth.

"Shhh, kitten, Daddy will make it all better soon. I promise."

Spike couldn't even think to cringe at his own words, so focused he was on taking care of his girl.

After a moment Buffy's hips began to move against Spike's still ones, indicating her readiness.

Spike began to thrust slowly but deeply, Buffy's arms and legs curling round his body possessively.

"Do I feel like you thought I would?" Buffy asked, knowing her question was not an innocent one.

"Yeah, you do, pet—all hot…tight…'n wet. Sweet little quim wants to strangle me, it does…."

Buffy grinned, loving it when Spike dropped the clinical terminology he used all day at work, and opted for something a little more down and dirty at home.

"Knew those rosy little nips would taste like berries," Spike bent down to capture a tender peak, humming in satisfaction, his hips gliding forward and back, cock dipping back into her heated channel in a steady rhythm. "You climbing on my lap in those tiny, white panties and my old undershirt, the other day…could feel your heat…see right through as that wet spot grew bigger…nipples clinging to that thin cotton…drivin' me crazy, you were…."

"It's good to have a plan," Buffy grinned, giving Spike's cock a warm, wet squeeze as he filled her again.

"What about me? Do I feel like you thought I would?" Spike turned the tables, knowing perfectly well that Buffy's recent behavior had not been purely innocent.

"Well, I knew you were long and thick, like sculptured marble except in the mornings when it's all hard and twitchy and kind of purple."

"Spied on me whilst I was asleep, did 'ya?"

"Once or twice," Buffy fibbed with a glint in her eye.

"More than that, pet," Spike playfully accused, "Little girls who fib get a warmed bottom."

Buffy giggled as she rolled on top, "You never spanked me in my entire life," she reminded proudly as she instinctively rolled her hips forward, Spike thrusting up from below.

"First time for everything, luv," Spike taunted with a smirk, right before landing a playful smack on her shapely ass.

"Ooh," she squeaked, "You'll have to remind me to be bad more often."

"Little minx," Spike countered, adding another spank to the other cheek. Spike raised himself up from the mattress to coax Buffy to wrap her legs around his back.

"Needing another nibble on these beauties," Spike dove for Buffy's nipples once again as he thrust into her slick sheath and toyed with her exposed clit. As he feasted, Spike thought of all the times during the last few months when Buffy would lay by the pool outside in her tiny bikini top, pert nipples standing out in clear relief against the fabric. He remembered hazy nights where Buffy would crawl into his bed for comfort and she'd pull his arm around her; he was never able to completely avoid those turgid peaks in the process.

He had forgone female companionship for so long, that Spike realized he was as needy as Buffy, who was currently holding his head pressed to her ripe nipples.

"I hope you do this every day," Buffy cooed, wanting a daily dose of Spike's attentions to her breast.

"You can count on it, pet," Spike promised, pleased at Buffy generously treating him to so much bare, responsive skin. "We could make the house an underwear-free zone, strip out of them as soon as you walk in the door," he teased, lapping at the pebbled flesh as he continued to thrust. "Give these beauties a welcome-home kiss every day."

"It would save bringing the laundry basket all the way down the stairs," Buffy concurred, loving how this position bared her clit to her Daddy's attentive fingers so completely. Her eyelids fluttered closed at the fantasy of shedding her bra and panties at the door and being rewarded with an impromptu suckling at her breast as she washed dishes or the surreptitious fingering she might receive as they watched evening TV.

"Never wear the damn things myself," Spike exempted, nibbling at the crook of Buffy's neck.

"Less to wash that way," Buffy added with a smirk, her hips thrusting forward in agreement.

"S'right," Spike acknowledged, pleased at Buffy's already adventurous attitude. Consequences be damned, he was euphoric that Buffy had chosen him to introduce her to the sexual delights of womanhood. Though he knew it was a perverse pleasure, he imagined all the naughty games they might play. Bare Buffy bottom, any time, day or night… Spike's cock thrust harder and faster at the thought.

"I think I'm gonna' like this new rule," Buffy drawled, "especially after cheerleading when I need to practice and stretch," she teased, making Spike's mind race with an onslaught of images as their bodies continued to rock, Buffy perched atop Spike's lap, his cock buried deep inside.

Spike let loose an audible growl, flipping Buffy onto her back and tucking her legs between his thighs, maximizing contact with her clit at every pass.

"Baby, I promise you—every time I see this hot, sweet little cunny, my fingers…or my tongue…or my cock will be buried inside. How's that sound, kitten?"

"Sounds like heaven," Buffy smiled as she groaned happily, grinding her hips against Spike's.

Spike punctuated his promise with a round of powerful thrusts, each dragging up and down the length of Buffy's straining clit. In moments, her walls started to squeeze around his thick member as Buffy groaned her pleasure out once more that night, this time causing her step-father's cock to pulse, spilling his seed into her heated depths as he cried out, all his pent-up desire pouring out into her sweet, welcoming body.

Buffy's satisfied body clung to Spike's that rested on top of hers, stroking his white blonde curls. Buffy smiled at the thought of his promise, swearing that she would hold him to it. While she hoped that her mother would've understood the change in Buffy and Spike's relationship, she was certain that Joyce would not have wanted her daughter to wade through silly, ineffectual boys when there was a skilled, attentive man who loved her more than anything already growing hard once again in her slick heat. So after these last several years spent in frustration and want, Buffy decided that Spike's daily, expert attentions…were _exactly_ what the doctor ordered.


End file.
